Dear fear of mine,

Imagine peak summertime, peak childhood, skin fully lathered in Coppertone. 

It was a Friday, my last day of swim lessons. 

You introduced yourself to me with the persistence quite like a morning glory, winding from belly to throat until I became entangled with the unavoidably obvious fact that my time had come to walk the dreaded plank towards my destiny . 

The final test.

The diving board. 

Shuffling one foot in front of the other, I gripped the edge of the board with pruned toes and watched as the crystal blue oasis below transformed into the darkest pool of uncertainty . 

Paralyzed, I wondered why anyone in their right mind would put themselves in a situation such as this one. 

 I looked over at my dad, whose words echoed in the canals of my water logged ears. 

“You can do it” 

Your vine of flowering hesitation tightened with each beat of my terrified heart, but somewhere, beneath the ripples of doubt, a quiet knowing grew. 

So I made the leap, nose pinched, eyes closed, and plunged into the realization that the anecdote to loosen your hold is only to jump unabashedly into what I am called to do.

And as I continue to navigate life’s pools of possibilities, standing on the water’s edge of all that is before me, I see you not as the vine that holds me captive, but the current that unravels its grip, leading me from the tangled shores of uncertainty into the deep reservoir of my own courage. 

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